


past lives (couldn't ever come between us)

by obsceme



Series: welcome to your life [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Christmas Smut, Gay Billy Hargrove, Idiots in Love, M/M, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsceme/pseuds/obsceme
Summary: Under the table, his hand easily finds Billy’s, their fingers slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. With Billy, like this, the uncertainty in his life slips away from him and everything is given a new sense of clarity, a comforting sort of peace.And maybe, Steve thinks, he’d like to keep that for a while.





	past lives (couldn't ever come between us)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sightetsound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightetsound/gifts).



> so here is the christmas smut follow-up, as promised. the title comes from past lives by BØRNS, which served as the spark of inspiration i needed to get this fic going.  
> i'd like to give a special thanks to sightetsound, who provided some much needed inspiration and lots of encouragement. this is my gift to you, you wonderful human!!

_December 24, 1985_

There’s this brief moment where Steve looks up, and it’s like everything, all at once, is just  _perfect_.

It’s that time of the day where the afternoon sun paints the walls in a hazy, golden glow. The seconds tick by quietly, easily, and the soft rustle of the curtains above Steve’s bedroom window is almost like a lullaby.

Billy is stretched out across the bed, propped up against the pillows with one arm hooked behind his head. The sunlight catches his skin just right, giving him a soft glow that Steve genuinely can’t help but describe as angelic. It’s just them in this moment, Billy and Steve, and everything else just fades into the background.

Almost as if he can feel Steve’s gaze lingering on him, Billy threads his fingers through Steve’s hair, his eyes blinking open lazily. “Why’re you staring?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“Because I can,” Steve answers honestly. He curls closer into Billy’s side, tilting his head up to give the other boy a gentle kiss.

It’s been a mere two weeks since they’d said fuck it and started doing this thing for real, but to Steve, it feels as though it’s been a lifetime.

If Steve is being honest with himself, he often finds himself wondering how he’d made it through almost the entire first eighteen years of his life without kissing Billy Hargrove. And though they hadn’t had the  _boyfriend_ conversation as of yet, Steve doesn’t feel the need to rush it. Billy is with him, he  _wants_ to be with him, completely and truly and in all the ways that make Steve’s heart sing.

Billy shifts Steve off of him gently, sitting up and snatching his sweater off of the floor from next to Steve’s bed, where he’d discarded it in the heat of events that had occurred earlier in the morning.

Steve’s parents had departed a little over a week earlier to stay with his grandmother until the New Year, and with years of practice under his belt, Steve had managed to weasel his way out of joining them by feigning a cold. And, well. He and Billy hadn’t wasted a single second, taking every spare moment to make up for lost time.

The first few days, Steve had honestly had difficulty sitting down properly, even on the velvety plushness of his parent’s couch. But he didn’t mind. He really, truly and honestly did not mind, not even a little bit. Nothing, no drug or high or material possession, compared in the slightest to the sensation of Billy Hargrove being inside of him.

Steve watches Billy pull the knitted, maroon jumper over his head, a dopey smile on his face. “Isn’t that mine?” He asks lightly, plucking the fabric of the sweater between his thumb and index finger.

“I believe you mean  _ours_ ,” Billy corrects, deadpan.

Steve huffs out a laugh, sitting up to tug his own shirt over his head as the other boy stands and stretches, then heads into the bathroom. A few moments tick by, until Steve hears the sink turn on. He chews on his lip thoughtfully.

It had been relatively surreal, waking up next to Billy, and even more surreal when they’d wrapped themselves up into each other, fucking the morning away lazily with their minds still hazy with sleep. And then sleeping half the day away next to the boy who owns his heart was certainly not a problem in Steve’s mind.

But there’s a subject he knows he needs to broach as the evening quickly approaches, one he’d deftly avoided over the past few days.

“Do you still want to go?” Steve calls. His voice sounds small and unsure, even to his own ears.

The door to the bathroom opens, and Billy appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He’s brushing his teeth, his mouth ringed with foamy white bubbles. Steve suppresses a giggle. “Do you?” Billy finally asks, twisting around to spit the toothpaste into the sink.

When Billy meets his eyes again, Steve is chewing on his lip, his thumbs twiddling anxiously. “Only if you want to,” he replies. He wants to give Billy an out, if he needs it.

Billy rolls his eyes, briefly disappearing into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. Steve’s stomach churns unpleasantly, but it's more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything. He watches Billy exit the bathroom a moment later, gently letting the door fall shut before making his way back over to the bed.

The mussed, wild mane of Billy’s soft curls brush over Steve’s cheeks as Billy hovers over him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “If it’s important to you, we’ll go.”

“I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Steve objects, then sucks his sore bottom lip back between his teeth.

Billy shifts onto the bed again, scooting Steve over easily to lay down next to him and curl into his side.

“If it makes you happy,” Billy starts, then pauses, looking almost bashful. He clears his throat. “Then, you know. I’m comfortable with it.”

Steve smiles softly, lacing their fingers together. “It might be weird at first. But they support this, you know? Us, being together.”

“Then we’ll go,” Billy says, with an air of finality. He presses a sweet kiss to Steve’s forehead, letting his fingers work through the small tangles in his hair. “Should I bring cookies, or some shit? Booze, maybe?”

“It’s a Christmas dinner, babe, not a kegger,” Steve jests, his head leaning into the fingers combing delicately through his hair. He then gives Billy a mischievous grin, one hand running down the other boy’s side, down to his ass, grabbing a generous handful. “All you need to bring is your pretty eyes and sweet ass.”

Steve easily rolls him onto his back, swinging his legs over Billy’s body and straddling his hips. Billy’s hands automatically run up under Steve’s shirt, an exasperated smile playing on his lips.

“Alright, cowboy,” he says with a laugh. “You sure you want to share this sweet ass with Ms. Byers? Because, uh, I think I could get down with that.”

“Ha ha,” Steve says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Then, Billy is craning his head up and capturing Steve’s lips in a gentle kiss, and Steve feels his heart skip a beat, his eyelids fluttering shut. A soft _I love you_ is at the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. He’d been careful about letting Billy guide their developing relationship at his own pace, and he’s not about to ruin it on Christmas Eve. Billy pulls away first, resting his hands on Steve’s hips.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he starts quietly, thumb toying with the frayed hem of Steve’s henley, “what you want for Christmas.”

“You already got me something,” Steve answers, his brows knitting together. He pulls the chain of Billy’s necklace out from under his shirt, clutching the pendant between his fingers.

“Yeah, I know, but, uh…” Billy trails off. “I want you to have something to open. Y’know, tomorrow morning. From me.”

Steve leans down and presses a kiss to each of Billy’s cheeks, then to his lips. “You’re sweet, you know that?” He tells him, giving him his most loving doe-eyes. “But it’s Christmas Eve, honey. I think the time for buying gifts has passed.”

“I know, I already got you something,” Billy replies with a shrug. His cheeks flush lightly. “I just…wanted to be sure you’d like it.”

His words are so sweet that Steve almost wants to cry. Instead, he cups Billy’s face in his hands and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, then to his lips. Billy’s arms circle around his waist as he deepens the kiss, his palms sliding up Steve’s back to rest delicately against the curve of his spine.

Steve positively melts into the boy beneath him, his heart thudding in his chest. When they break apart, he says, “I’ll love it no matter what. Promise.” He gives Billy a small smile. “I hope you feel the same about what I got you.”

Billy shakes his head and says, “Steve, you didn’t have to -”

“Don’t give me any of that,” Steve cuts him off quickly. “I wanted to, believe me.”

“Alright, alright,” Billy concedes. His eyes flicker to the clock next to the bed. “You should probably shower before we go. I don’t think even hairspray can fix that mess on your head right now.”

Steve reluctantly rolls off of him, then sits up and stretches like a cat. He turns around to peer at Billy, a sly smile crossing his lips. “Looks like you could use a shower too, if I do say so myself. Indulge me?” He asks, holding out a hand.

Billy takes it, an endearing laugh falling from his lips. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, letting himself be pulled up and guided towards the bathroom. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

* * *

Billy has been eerily silent during the drive, and it’s making Steve feel unsettled. His fingers tap an offbeat rhythm on the steering wheel as he cruises down the dark streets. “We can turn around, you know,” he says finally, glancing over at the boy next to him.

“Christ, Steve, I’m fine,” Billy replies, sighing in exasperation. But he gives Steve a small smile, then follows his assurance up with, “promise.”

Steve had honestly started to worry the moment Billy hadn’t argued over who would drive, instead opting to quietly slip into the passenger’s seat of Steve’s Beamer. He did have to wonder, though, if the lack of argument was really just due to Billy wanting to make a better impression with the Chief.

He’d even chosen to wear one of Steve’s simple gray sweaters under his leather jacket, instead of one of his usual shirts that are designed solely for showing as much skin as possible. Billy hadn’t explicitly stated that he’d wanted to make a good impression, but it showed. Steve hadn’t commented on it, though his stomach did a funny flip upon the realization that Billy wanted Steve’s little makeshift family to at least tolerate him, if not like him.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he yields. He rests his elbow on the center console, hand outstretched. Billy takes it easily, threading their fingers together.

It’s only when they’re pulling up the Byers’ driveway that Billy finally has the barest hint of concern etched across his features.

Steve can see him worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. “You’ll have a great time,” he promises. “And I mean, if not, then fuck it, whatever. ‘S not like we can’t leave.”

“I’m not going to make you leave your only chance at Christmas dinner,” Billy tells him, shooting him a look. “Don’t worry about me.”

Steve leans across the console, kissing Billy once, twice, three times, then smiles cheekily. “But, you know, if you do want to leave, it’s okay. More time for that other fun stuff back home. If you’re picking up what I’m putting down.”

When Billy laughs, it bubbles up from deep within his chest, and it’s probably the sweetest sound that Steve has ever heard. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“I’m enamored by the dick, what can I say,” Steve says impishly, giving him a wink, then steps out of the car.

Since the start of their developing relationship, it had only been Steve and Billy, with no other outside influences. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s at least a little scared, going into this dinner with Billy in tow. But he trusts his friends, he trusts them when they say it’s okay that he’s with Billy, that it’s okay that they’re a package deal, that where Steve goes, Billy follows.

Billy climbs out of the car a moment later, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The icy snow crunches under their shoes as they make their way up the driveway to the front door. Steve rests his hand on the knob, turning to Billy one last time. “You ready?” he asks.

Billy just nods, and Steve throws the door open easily.

They’re greeted by an immediate warmth and the delicious smell of cooking ham. The house is alive with sound and movement, the kids all over the place, as per the usual. Hopper and Ms. Byers are sharing a cigarette at the kitchen table, laughing with each other about stories from the past. Nancy and Jonathan sit with them, though they’re engrossed in their own conversation.

“We’re here!” Steve shouts as they enter, the noise only dying a little following his announcement.

“‘Sup, asshole,” Dustin greets cheerfully, waving from his spot on the living room floor.

Max and Eleven are seated next to him, crafting what appears to be hand turkeys, lively chatter flowing between them. Mike and Will are chasing each other around with some new gadget or another, presumably the gift that Ms. Byers always lets Will open the night before Christmas. Max looks up at her stepbrother, giving him a considering look before cracking a half-smile.

If Steve had blinked, he would have missed the small smile that Billy gives back.

“Merry Christmas to you too, you little shit,” Steve says, the easygoing smile that he gives Dustin taking any bite out of his words. He turns to Billy, tilting his head towards the direction of the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s go say hi.”

He makes his way towards the smell of food, hearing Billy follow close behind.

“Hi, honey,” Ms. Byers greets, standing to give him a warm hug. When she releases him, she does the same to Billy, who looks a little more than startled. It takes him a moment before he awkwardly hugs her back, his cheeks tinged pink. “I’m so happy you both could make it. Make yourselves comfortable, dinner’s just about ready.”

She gives Billy one of her warm smiles, and Steve is pleased to see some of the tension melt out of his shoulders.

“Boys,” Hopper greets, giving them a quick tilt of his head. His eyes linger on Billy, who gives a polite nod back. “Glad to see you both got here in one piece.”

“I drove,” Steve offers up, elbowing Billy gently, giving him a tender smile.

“Wise choice,” Hopper replies, but his eyes are light and kind, no real edge attached to his words. He pulls two beers from the six-pack on the table, handing them over. Steve takes his easily, but Billy hesitates. “Come on, kid, I don’t bite. It’s Christmas.”

Billy glances at Steve, who gives a small shrug, then accepts the beer with another polite nod. “Thanks,” he acknowledges, and even Steve has to admit that it sounds foreign coming from Billy’s lips.

They seat themselves at the cluttered table. Steve, as if on autopilot, slings his arm over the back of Billy’s chair, his hand resting easily on his shoulder. He’s already engrossed in a conversation about his new job search, not catching the small smile that Nancy casts their way. She props her elbows on the table and leans forward, focusing on Billy.

“So,” she starts, the others at the table falling silent, “we already know enough about you, Steve, take it down a notch. What about you, Billy? Anything exciting going on now that you’re done with school?”

There’s a brief pause, all eyes lingering on Billy. Steve hopes the other boy doesn’t feel like he’s in the hot seat; he knows Nancy only asks out of genuine curiosity.

Billy clears his throat. “Just, uh, working on cars down at Sal’s shop. Nothing exciting.”

“Gotta be pretty good with cars to get a mechanic gig right out of school,” Hopper notes. “Been working on ‘em for a while?”

“Yeah, you know, here and there,” Billy says easily. He transitions seamlessly into the new conversation, presumably due to the familiar territory.

Steve can’t help but watch him as he talks. Billy’s eyes light up at the genuine interest the others have in his words. And then the feeling hits Steve the same way it always does: like a punch to the gut. He loves Billy Hargrove, wildly, crazily, maybe even a little madly. Watching him interact so easily with the people he loves only reiterates that fact.

The oven dings, startling them out of their amiable chatter. “Hop, help me with the ham, would you?” Ms. Byers requests, though Hopper is already halfway out of his seat.

“You okay?” Steve asks Billy quietly, catching his eyes and losing himself in the pools of blue.

He gives him that smile, the one Steve has only ever seen directed exclusively in his direction. “Yeah, ‘course. Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Billy tells him, taking a sip of his beer.

Steve considers his words for a moment before leaning in to tell him, “I’m glad you’re having fun. And, uh. I like seeing you, happy like this. It suits you.”

“Yeah. This is…” Billy pauses, then gives Steve a genuine smile. “‘S really nice. I’m glad we came.”

Unwinding his arm from Billy’s shoulder, Steve takes his hand and squeezes gently, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. He excuses himself a moment later, heading down the hallway to the bathroom. All the doorways are lined with multicolored lights, giving everything a hint of warmth and festivity, a far cry from the sickeningly terrified feeling he’d gotten when facing these lights the first time around.

He’s washing his hands when he catches sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. He feels like he’s almost unrecognizable, even to himself. Only a few months prior had he looked halfway to being dead inside, with that vacant, vapid stare and eyes ringed with some serious bags. Now, it’s as if he’d spent a few hours in the sun, a healthy glow radiating from his skin.

Steve snorts at his train of thought, realizing he sounds vaguely like one of those maternity magazines that had lined the tables at the doctor’s office when he was a kid. But he does look better than he has in months, he has to admit that it’s true. He thinks it’s a look he’d like to keep.

When he returns to the others, he finds them all in the dining room, crowded cozily around the table. Billy has saved Steve a seat next to him. Max is seated at his other side, deeply engrossed in a rather animated discussion with Dustin and Lucas, who’re crowded at the end of the table.

Steve is just taking his seat next to Billy when Hopper enters holding the ham, with Ms. Byers, Jonathan, and Nancy hot on his heels, bowls piled into their hands.

“Alright, who’s ready to eat?” Ms. Byers calls, setting a bowl of mashed potatoes onto the table. Billy stands and maneuvers to help her and the others unload the rest of the dishes, to which she shoots him an appreciative smile.

In the next few moments, there’s a flurry of movement, everyone passing food around, the kids flicking food at each other far more than necessary. Steve loses count of how many times he says _cool it, asswipe_ or _seriously, Dustin?_ or _the next one of you shits that gets potatoes in my ears has to eat on the porch_.

When he looks up, Billy is watching him carefully, his eyes soft and tender. They share a smile and Steve’s heart feels like it’s full to the brim, dangerously close to spilling over.

A soft, secret voice inside of him whispers that he’d really, really like to maybe spend the rest of forever with Billy, just like this.

Dinner is lively, too many people talking at once, ten different overlapping conversations going on at any given moment. Billy is leaning in close to Steve, whispering something into his ear about getting Ms. Byers a present as a thank you for letting him crash their dinner, when Max blinks up at them.

“So, are you guys, like, together now?” She asks bluntly, her eyes trained primarily on her brother.

Billy’s eyes flicker to Steve’s, before he looks back at her, curling his arm around the back of Steve’s chair. “Yeah, I guess we are, kid.”

Max considers this for a moment before she shrugs. “Oh, okay. That’s cool,” is all she says, before shoving a forkful of green beans into her mouth. Steve, on the other hand, feels his heart do several backflips behind his ribcage.

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, breaking away from his conversation with Eleven and Will. “It’s like you guys have your own lore or something.”

Steve and Billy share an amused look, before Billy chuckles and says, “sure, man. Whatever you say.”

Billy whispers to him a moment later, “it’s like we have our own lore or something, huh?” and Steve absolutely giggles like a little girl, he won't even bother contesting that. Then, Billy adds, “you were right, you know.”

“About what?” he inquires, furrowing his brows.

“Kids,” Billy explains, “being alright, or whatever. You were right.”

Casting his eyes around the room, Steve smiles softly. “Yeah, I could get used to this. With you,” he confesses, then bites his lip. “Did you mean what you said?”

It’s the other boy's turn to ask what about, and Steve looks down at his half-empty plate before answering. “About us being together,” he says finally.

This time, Billy just smiles, then leans in to brush his lips across his cheek. “Yeah, I meant it.”

When Steve looks around, Nancy is giving him a smile that practically lights up the whole room. For the second time today, he can’t help but feel like everything in his life at this precise moment is completely and irrevocably perfect.

Under the table, his hand easily finds Billy’s, their fingers slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. With Billy, like this, the uncertainty in his life slips away from him and everything is given a new sense of clarity, a comforting sort of peace.

And maybe, Steve thinks, he’d like to keep that for a while.

* * *

Later, as they gather their things to head out, Ms. Byers insists they take more leftovers than they can reasonably carry, because _two growing boys need to always be able to have a good meal_.

Billy has just finished piling the stack of tupperware into Steve’s backseat when Steve lopes out of the house, pausing on the front porch. Billy walks over to join them, taking his place by Steve’s side almost instinctively.

Ms. Byers is giving Steve a kiss on the cheek as she says, “thank you, boys, for coming. It wouldn’t really be Christmas, otherwise.”

“Of course,” Steve says easily, “we wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Billy nods, this time easily folding into Ms. Byers’ warm hug. “Thank you,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, “for having me. Dinner was delicious.”

Ms. Byers pats his cheek gently. “You’re always welcome here, honey, just like your sister.”

When Steve looks back at the house, Max is lingering in the doorway, a small Christmas bag in her hands. She quietly steps over to her brother, her hand thrusting the bag out to him. “Before you go, I got you something. Don’t get too excited.”

Billy nudges her shoulder with his fist, taking the bag. If he’s surprised by Max’s actions, he does a good job of hiding it. Billy peeks inside, then actually huffs out a laugh. He pulls out a pack of smokes and several assorted cans of hairspray, seemingly unable to contain his grin. “Thanks, kid. Was almost out of both.”

“I figured,” Max says cheekily, “seeing as how you practically bathe in the shit.”

Billy pauses, before excusing himself and jogging back to the car. When he returns, he’s holding a small box, similar to the one he’d given Steve when he’d gifted him his necklace. He hands it to Max without a word, only clearing his throat and shifting his feet.

Steve finds himself wondering when Billy had found the time to Christmas shop for his sister, seeing as how nearly every waking moment of their lives had been spent together in the last few weeks. It occurs to him that Billy probably made the purchase a while ago, holding onto it until he and Max started feeling more like normal siblings.

Max opens the box carefully, her eyes widening. “Oh,” is all she says, delicately cradling a dainty silver charm bracelet between her fingers. There’s only one charm dangling from the chain so far, a tiny silver skateboard.

“Saw it at the mall, figured, y’know, why the hell not,” Billy says. His voice is rough, thick with something almost unrecognizable, but Steve thinks he can define it as poorly subdued emotion. He takes Billy’s hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze.

Max doesn’t say much more, just throws her arms around her brother. Billy emits a soft _oof_ , before returning the hug with only a hint of hesitation. She pulls away just as quickly, then holds out her hand, and he clasps the chain around her wrist easily.

“Thanks,” she says, then smiles and follows it up with, “dickhead.”

“No problem, shitbird,” Billy replies easily, ruffling her hair.

“Alright, alright,” Dustin calls, and Steve swivels around to look at him. “Cut the sappy Christmas shit, people are still eating over here.”

“You literally don’t even have food,” Steve points out, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, but if I _did_ ,” Dustin emphasizes, “I’d be dry-heaving into my potatoes. This isn’t a Hallmark card.”

Steve gives another swift roll of his eyes, frogging Dustin on the shoulder lightly. As they start to faux-wrestle, Billy turns back to Max and asks, “you, uh, know where you’re staying tonight? Susan left a message at Steve's, said she and Neil went to her sister's.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Hopper butts in, plumes of cigarette smoke spilling from his lips as he speaks, “I got a spot made up for her in Jane’s room.”

“Then I’ll be at Lucas’ tomorrow afternoon,” Max tells him. She chews on her lip for a moment before saying, hesitantly, “unless you want me to -”

“Nah,” Billy assures her, shaking his head. “Hang with the nerds, have a good time. I’ll see you back home real soon, and you’ll be dying to get away from me.”

Ms. Byers reappears out on the porch, startling Steve. “Okay, you two,” she says, giving both Steve and Billy a pointed look, though her smile is warm. “It’s getting late. I want you both home and in bed before Santa comes.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Billy agrees, giving Steve a devilish smile. Steve feels the tips of his ears turn pink, lightly jabbing the other boy with his elbow.

They finish saying their goodbyes, and minutes later, they’re sitting in companionable silence as Steve cruises down the unlit streets, heading towards home.

“That was sweet,” Steve says, tearing his eyes from the road to sneak a peek at Billy. “What you did for Max, I mean.”

Billy shrugs, almost as if he doesn’t quite know what to say. Steve, at this point in his relationship with Billy, finds it rather easy to assume that he probably doesn’t.

“Wanna know what’s going to be even sweeter?” he finally asks, his voice low. Steve swallows thickly when he feels Billy's hand come to rest gently against his thigh.

“What?” Steve’s voice is almost a whisper, his knuckles white from the grip he has on the steering wheel.

Steve feels the brush of Billy’s curls against his skin as he leans in close, lips all but touching his ear. “All the things I’m going to do to you the moment we walk through that front door, princess,” Billy purrs, before nipping at Steve’s earlobe.

He ignores Billy’s laugh as he slams his foot onto the gas.

And Billy really wasn’t lying.

The moment they cross the threshold, the front door is all but slammed shut and Steve finds himself pressed tightly up against it, Billy’s tongue licking into his mouth. He moans into the heat of the kiss, his hands immediately tangling in Billy’s hair. Steve gives the soft curls in his hands a sharp tug, smiling against Billy’s lips when he hears the other boy whimper.

“Bed?” Billy pants, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Steve’s.

Steve shakes his head, gesturing towards the living room. “By the tree?” he suggests, almost shyly, moderately embarrassed by his own request.

Billy just grins, hoisting Steve up so that he can wrap his legs around his waist, his hands holding fast to Steve’s ass. Steve laughs at the sensation of being carried like a child to the living room, latching himself securely to the other boy’s muscular frame. He’s deposited gently onto the plush carpet next to the twinkling lights of the tree.

“I’ll be back,” Billy tells him, before practically bolting from the room. Steve hears him race up the stairs, presumably to snag the necessary items from Steve’s bedside table.

It takes Billy longer than Steve is expecting, and while he waits, a thought occurs to him. He strips down completely, snagging one of the red and gold ribbons from the nearly-empty decorations box that they’d left lying haphazardly near the tree. Steve is already hard, making it easier for him to neatly tie the ribbon into a bow around himself.

“Sorry, sorry,” Billy apologizes as he enters the room, looking down at the half-empty bottle of lube in his hands. “Must’ve gotten kicked under the bed - _holy shit_.”

He looks up, his eyes darkening as he takes in the scene before him. Steve feels the blush spread down his neck, but he continues to lounge across the carpet, patting the spot next to him on the floor. “Are you going to come open your present, or what?” He asks playfully, giving Billy a cheeky grin.

Billy falls silent, then makes quick work of his jacket and shirt. His eyes never leave Steve’s as he slips out of his boots and jeans. He finally sinks down to the floor next to Steve, his hands easily pushing Steve onto his back. Billy moves to hover over him, caging him in with his arms.

“Look at you,” Billy whispers, blue eyes drinking in the sight beneath him.

Steve reaches his hands up just to touch, giving a pleased hum at the feeling of Billy’s smooth skin sliding beneath his palms. Billy’s eyelids flutter shut, and then Steve is surging up to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulls Billy’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting and sucking with enough pressure to leave a faint bruise. Billy shivers in appreciation, but there’s something that he seems to be holding back, something causing the tension to remain in his shoulders.

Steve pulls back and blinks up at him, noting the hesitation swimming in Billy’s eyes. He sits both of them up, concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Billy trails off. He scratches the back of his head, a deep red flush blooming across his cheeks. Steve can practically see him bite his tongue, holding back whatever it is that’s bothering him.

“Hey,” Steve admonishes, grabbing one of Billy’s palms and giving it a gentle kiss, “you can talk to me about anything. What’s up?”

Billy is chewing on the inside of his cheek again, looking lost in thought. “I just thought that, um. Well, that tonight we could -” he pauses, eyes flickering up to meet Steve’s. “Or, well. That _you_ could. You know. Be on top.”

Steve feels his eyes widen in surprise. “ _Oh_ ,” he breathes, moving to take both of Billy’s hands between his own. “Yeah, _yes_ , absolutely. I mean, shit, you don’t have to ask me twice. Whatever you want to do, I’m game. Just…have you ever…?”

Shaking his head, Billy averts his eyes. “No, not with - um. Not _with_ anyone. Just myself, y’know?”

“So I’ll be…” Steve trails off, looking at the other boy with something akin to wonder.

“The first. Yeah.” Billy’s eyes are still trained on something that must be very interesting above Steve’s head. “Never been with anyone worth doing it with. ‘Til now.”

Smiling, Steve leans forward to give him a peck on the lips. Finally, Billy’s eyes meet his. “It means a lot,” Steve says, somewhat bashful, “that you trust me. With this.”

Instead of answering, Billy just captures Steve’s lips with his own. It’s a sweet kiss, a gentle press of lips with his face cupped between Billy’s hands. Steve suddenly snorts out a laugh, and Billy breaks away in surprise.

“Sorry,” Steve giggles, “sorry. ‘S not you, just…I look like a terribly wrapped Christmas present, now.”

Billy looks down at Steve’s lap, where his softened dick rests with a now slightly too-loose (and rather lopsided) bow that’s dangerously close to slipping right off. “I think I can fix that,” Billy says, giving Steve a toothy smile.

Then, he’s letting himself tip backwards until his back is resting comfortably on the carpet, pulling Steve along so that he’s now the one hovering over him, his palms flat on the carpet on either side of Billy’s head. The other boy wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, using the muscles of his thighs to pull him in close and grind their hips together.

Steve hisses at the contact, the feeling of the rough material of Billy’s underwear combined with the soft slide of the satin ribbon wrapped around his length making him shiver. Steve crushes their lips together hungrily and gives another hard roll of his hips, moaning into the heat of Billy’s mouth. Billy’s hands twist into Steve’s hair, his nails raking over his scalp.

Craving to feel the slide of Billy’s skin against his own, Steve untangles himself from the other boy, sitting back on his heels and motioning for Billy to lift his hips. He slides the underwear off in one smooth motion, tossing them somewhere on the opposite side of the room. When Billy’s legs fall to rest back on the carpet, Steve just has to take the time to look at him.

The sight makes the breath catch in Steve’s throat. Billy’s all tan skin and hard muscles, not what most would consider the traditional definition of _pretty_. For Steve, it’s a completely different story.

There are no lights on save for the dimly lit decorations scattered around the room, and the bright, twinkling multi-colored lights of the Christmas tree, which cast a rainbow of softly glowing colors across Billy’s skin. His blonde curls are fanned out around him, the deep blue pools of his eyes almost shining whenever the light catches them. His teeth have worried his plump bottom lip into a beautiful shade of red, almost rouge, striking against the golden hue of his skin.

Steve can’t help but suck in a breath, shifting forward ever-so-slightly to run his hands over the length of Billy’s torso, enjoying the soft mewl that falls from Billy’s lips in response.

“You look…” Steve trails off, trying to find the right words. _Beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing_ are all words that come to the forefront of his mind, but even they don’t do the scene before him justice. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.”

And okay, Steve has known for a while that Billy has a thing for being praised. But the molten heat still flows through his belly when Billy’s cock comes to full hardness in response to Steve’s words, a bead of pre-cum slipping from the tip and down his length. It practically glitters in the lights, and Steve can’t help but think that everything about Billy is a goddamn work of art. God took his time crafting this boy, rendering every inch of him heavenly enough to write sonnets about.

But Steve doesn’t know how to write a sonnet, so instead he drapes himself over Billy, sealing their lips together in a scorching kiss. He kisses him reverently, trying to pull every whimper and moan from Billy’s lips with each stroke of his tongue. Billy’s fingers are knotted into Steve’s hair once again, his hips rocking upwards in search of friction.

“ _Steve_.” It comes out as a gasp, falling from Billy’s lips when Steve buries his face into the crook of his neck, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin over his pulse.

He continues southward, pausing to press hot, open-mouthed kisses over Billy’s chest, not letting the opportunity to leave another pretty collection of marks scattered over the expanse of his torso go to waste.

The sounds Billy makes when Steve leaves a particularly dark bruise over his left nipple will be forever seared into his mind. He rolls the bud between his teeth, alternating between biting and sucking on the hardened peak. The moan that escapes Billy’s lips is so filthy that Steve almost shoots his load right then and there, in a Christmas bow on his living room floor.

By the time Steve reaches Billy’s cock, the boy beneath him is practically vibrating out of his own skin, his length achingly hard and flushed deep red, curving up towards his belly. The pre-cum dripping from the head has made a lovely little pool in the divots between Billy’s abdominal muscles.

“Steve, Jesus fucking Christ, _please_ ,” Billy whines, his head thrown back, exposing the long, smooth expanse of his throat. Steve eyes the bruise he’d left there hungrily.

Spreading Billy’s legs gently, Steve positions himself between them, glancing back up and catching the pair of beautiful blue eyes looking right back at him. “Okay, sweetheart, okay. I’ve got you.”

Billy looks momentarily confused when Steve slings his legs over his shoulders. But any confusion disappears the moment Steve spreads the plump cheeks of Billy’s ass and delves right in, his tongue hungrily working over the pretty pucker he finds there.

“ _Holy_ \- oh my _fuck_ ,” Billy pants out, his head thumping back onto the floor.

His hips jerk upwards of their own accord when Steve pays special attention to his rim, licking and sucking like it’s the tastiest fucking treat he’s ever been given. In all honesty, Steve thinks, it basically is. Billy’s moan comes from deep within his chest, the sound knocking the wind out of Steve like a punch to the gut. He immediately resolves to make it his mission to keep pulling that beautiful sound from Billy’s lips.

Steve holds Billy’s hips as he eats him out. The moment his tongue breaches Billy’s hole, his hands have to tighten their grip just to keep him in place. Billy emits a broken whine, propping himself up on his elbows to watch. Their eyes lock as Steve works him open with his tongue, and he can say with absolute certainty that it’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever experienced.

Letting the smooth muscle of his tongue work it’s way into Billy’s tight heat, Steve uses a hand to pump the other boy’s length in a slow, languid rhythm. And time just seems to stop, the sweet sounds of _yes_ and _please_ and _oh, fuck, Steve, just like that_ falling from Billy’s lips. It doesn’t take nearly as long as Steve had anticipated for the muscle around Steve’s tongue to slacken, the hips in his hands pushing back against his tongue with a broken rhythm.

“Steve - _fuck_ \- please,” Billy whines, his cheeks flushed a brilliant red, pupils blown wide. “I need more, c’mon.”

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Steve croons, sliding up Billy’s body to seal their lips into a filthy kiss, his lips still slick with spit. “Shit, what’d you do with the lube?”

Billy just points wildly to his jeans, which he’d discarded on the floor with the rest of his clothing in a disorganized pile. Steve finds the bottle easily, quickly coating his fingers in a thick layer. He applies a generous coat to Billy’s hole, grinning at the pleased shiver that runs through the other boy at the contact.

He hasn’t even worked his finger in to the first knuckle before Billy’s toes are curling, his body shuddering in pleasure. It leaves Steve wondering just how often Billy has fucked himself back onto his own fingers, and what he thinks about when he does. Steve asks as much, easily working him open while resuming pumping his neglected cock.

“ _God_ , all the fucking time,” Billy answers, his hips fucking upwards into Steve’s fist. When the second finger is added, Billy’s eyes roll back into his head and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Every time I’m not with you. Just fuck myself to the thought of your cock inside of me.”

Steve lets out a pleased hum, scissoring the two fingers inside of him. He searches for that sweet spot inside of Billy, the one that Steve knows will send sparks shooting down his spine and cause fireworks to explode behind his eyelids.

“Steve, I just -” Billy breaks off, wiggling his hips. “Up, a little, I think. With your fingers.”

Complying easily, Steve repositions his fingers, crooking them upwards. And there it is. Billy’s whole body goes taut, his back arching, the most beautiful, broken sounds spilling from his lips. Steve finds the perfect angle to hit Billy’s prostate with every stroke of his fingers. It’s only moments later that he’s slipping a third finger inside, tightening his fist around Billy’s cock with every upstroke. Billy has been rendered a babbling mess, his skin glistening with sweat.

“I swear to god,” he pants, his hips canting back onto Steve’s fingers, “if you’re not inside of me in the next five seconds, I’m going to literally fucking explode.”

“Mm, bossy,” Steve says, releasing his aching member from his grip. He teases his fingers over Billy’s prostate, circling his fingers slowly. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? Me fucking you open with my cock?”

“Yes, _yes_ , baby, _please_ ,” Billy begs. His abdominal muscles quiver with every stroke of Steve’s fingers, his swollen cock leaking a delicious mess over his sweat-slicked skin.

Steve emits a soft hiss of approval, pressing a teasing kiss to the head of Billy’s length before sitting back onto his heels, gently extracting his fingers from the other boy’s loosened hole. He uses his discarded shirt to clean off his fingers, then pauses, blinking back down at Billy.

“I think you forgot something,” Steve says, biting back a grin.

When he tilts his head in confusion, Steve gestures to the bow still fastened securely around his dick. Billy grins, and Steve shuffles on his knees - feeling only a little bit ridiculous - to get himself within his reach. He can’t help but whimper at the feeling of Billy’s hands on his cock, which gives a little twitch as the satin glides over his skin upon being untied. And watching Billy slip the ribbon off shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but then again, Steve is pretty sure that at this point, watching him shovel dirt would turn him on.

He pats around for the bottle of lube that he knows is discarded somewhere behind him, then applies a thick coat to his cock, spreading the excess over Billy’s hole.

And then he’s finally, _finally_ lining himself up with Billy’s entrance.

“Remember what you told me the first time?” Steve says softly, his hands resting delicately on Billy’s thighs. “Breathe. You were right about that. It’ll feel better if you don’t hold your breath. Can you do that for me, angel?”

Billy preens at the soft praise, nodding in place of his words.

And then Steve is slowly pushing inside, his eyelids fluttering shut at the feel of his cock being engulfed by Billy’s tight heat. The feeling is truly indescribable, Steve thinks, and no amount of words could ever do it justice. He resists the urge to thrust himself inside in one quick stroke, taking his time to relish in the feeling of his length sinking deeper into Billy. There’s less resistance than he’d anticipated, likely due to Billy fucking himself open often enough to adjust more easily to the intrusion.

“You feel fucking incredible,” Steve breathes, his eyes cast downwards, watching his cock slip deeper inside the boy beneath him in wonder. “So fucking good for me.”

“Just for you,” Billy moans, one hand in his hair, the other gripping tightly to Steve’s bicep. “Only for you.”

Steve bottoms out a moment later, his hips stilling to allow Billy to have time to finish adjusting. He honestly thinks he could fall asleep right there if he wanted to, his cock nestled snugly inside of Billy’s hole, the heat surrounding him warm and inviting. He plants his hand back on the floor beside Billy’s head, using the other to softly stroke over the other boy’s cheek. Blue eyes meet brown, and he doesn’t know how long they sit like that, looking at each other in an easy quietness.

“Okay,” Billy says, breaking the silence, “I think I’m good. You can move.”

They don’t break eye contact as Steve pulls his hips back slowly, then sinks back inside. Steve sets a slow, deep rhythm, struck to his core by the way Billy’s mouth forms a small ‘o’, his eyes wide with something akin to fascination.

“Fuck, Steve,” Billy practically whimpers, throwing his head back. Steve immediately swoops in to press lingering kisses along his jaw, losing himself in the feeling of his cock thrusting into Billy’s tightness. “Feels so fucking _good_.”

Steve uses one hand to continue balancing himself, and the other to get Billy’s legs wrapped around his waist. The new position allows him to thrust in deeper, and at a better angle to stroke over Billy’s prostate. The sound of his hips slapping against Billy’s skin, combined with their breathy moans and broken cries, creates the filthiest, yet also the most beautiful, noise that Steve thinks he's ever heard.

“So fucking perfect,” Steve coos, dipping down to press a kiss to Billy’s lips. The head of his cock strikes his prostate at the same time, leaving the other boy moaning into Steve’s mouth. “God, I say it all the fucking time, but it’s true. You’re so goddamn perfect for me.”

Billy moans his approval, taking his neglected cock in hand and stroking himself in time with Steve’s thrusts. “Wanna be so fucking good for you, baby,” he groans, sweet gasps spilling from his lips. “ _Fuck_ , I need it harder.”

Steve complies easily, holding fast to Billy’s thighs as he increases the speed of his hips. He can see Billy’s muscles clenching with every thrust, every hard stroke of his length. He finds the perfect angle, allowing himself to push inside of Billy as deep as he can, snapping his hips at a rapid pace. The incoherent rambling that typically falls from Steve’s mouth is now spilling beautifully from Billy’s, his hips thrusting up into his fist in time with Steve’s movements.

“ _Motherfucker_!” Billy cries out, his spine arching prettily at the new angle. “I’m so fucking close, Steve, oh my _god_.”

Billy releases his cock from his fist, his hands moving to toy with the hardened peaks of his nipples. When his head falls back once again, Steve moves to suck a magnificent bruise onto the soft patch of skin just below his earlobe. And just like that, Billy cums untouched with a broken cry. Steve can feel Billy's cock pulsing between them, his cum spilling in thick, pretty ropes over his stomach.

“Holy mother of… _oh_ fuck, fucking _fuck_ ,” is all Billy can manage, his eyes screwed shut. With every subsequent thrust of Steve’s cock, sweet dribbles of cum spill from the tip of Billy’s spent dick, leaving him a broken, quivering mess.

The tight heat enveloping Steve’s length flexes around him, and he can’t help but let out a guttural moan, his hips snapping up into the warm heat surrounding his cock. His movements become fast and choppy, and soon he’s toppling over the edge, spilling himself deep inside of Billy with a broken cry, burying his face into the crook of his neck. His whole body feels as though it’s pulsating, every nerve-ending sizzling. It’s pure ecstasy, plain and simple, and Steve rides the wave dizzily.

When his hips finally still, he rests on top of Billy for a moment, trying to catch his breath, before he sits back up on his elbows and looks down at the boy beneath him. He finds that Billy has a far-away look in his eyes, almost as if his brain has packed up and left the building.

“Billy, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Steve asks, unable to keep the edge of concern from weaving its way into his voice.

Billy’s hands flop uselessly by his sides in response, as though he wants to reach out but can’t muster the energy to do anything but lay there. Steve can feel his anxiety mounting, thumbing through the events of the past few minutes in his mind to determine exactly what could’ve gone wrong. He rolls off of Billy gently, laying on his side next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says finally, and when Steve catches sight of tears pooling in Billy’s eyes, for a split-second he can’t help but wonder if he’s hallucinating. Billy wipes his eyes angrily, almost as if he’s betrayed by them. “Motherfucking _fuck_. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He just keeps repeating it, over and over, as if it’s the only thing he can think of to say. Steve suspects it might be. He takes one of Billy’s hands, rubbing soothing circles over his skin with his thumb. “Shh, hey, look at me. It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay.”

“I love you,” Billy blurts, and Steve’s world comes to a grinding halt. Billy’s face crumples again, and he averts his eyes. “I just. I love you. I fucking love you and I…I’m just…”

His arms finally move to wrap around Steve, hands clinging to him with a vice-like grip, like he’s afraid that if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough, Steve will just disappear into thin air.

“I love you and I don’t -” Billy breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t fucking know what to do with that.”

Steve is just holding on right back, his heart beating with a rhythm that would concern him in any other situation. “Oh, Billy. Oh, sweetheart. I love you, too. It’s okay,” he says softly, running his hands up and down the curve of Billy’s spine.

“I’m fucking just…” Billy trails off. Steve pulls back to look at him, and when he catches his eyes, he sees it. Billy just looks lost and afraid, almost like he’s drowning in it. “Fuck, Steve. I’m scared. Scared out of my goddamn mind.”

Out of all the day's many surprises, the verbal admission of fear is what catches Steve off guard the most. It honestly sounds strange coming from Billy’s lips. But at the same time, Steve can’t help but recognize it as progress.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Steve tells him, tucking a lock of Billy's hair delicately behind his ear. “I am, too.”

Billy looks at him warily, almost like he doesn’t believe him, though he doesn’t voice it.

“I’m afraid, all the time, that I’m going to fuck this up,” Steve continues, averting his eyes. “That I’m going to hurt you, or just. I don’t know. Ruin this like I’ve ruined pretty much everything fucking else, you know? The thought of not being with you, it just…terrifies me. Because I love you, more than I thought I could love anyone.”

The silence stretches between them for a long while. Billy finally says, quietly, “I don’t think I could leave you, even if I wanted to.” His face is pressed into Steve’s chest, and Steve can feel the gentle puff of his breath across his skin. “Christ. I feel like a fucking douchebag.”

“No, hey,” Steve chastises gently, combing his fingers through Billy’s hair, “it’s a lot, all of this. It’s new, for both of us. But I think we can figure it out, together.”

Billy is quiet for a long stretch, considering his words. His fingers play with Steve’s absentmindedly. “You won’t, you know,” he says after a while, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Ruin this. I mean, shit, if anyone should be worried about being a fuck up, it’s me.”

“You’ve done alright so far,” Steve says playfully, pulling back to meet Billy’s eyes.

Billy chuckles, taking one of Steve’s hands and threading their fingers together. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” His voice is laced with sarcasm, but his eyes are full of warmth.

“Look,” Steve says, a serious edge creeping back into his voice, “we can be scared together, y’know? Whatever happens, we can make it work.”

“I think I can handle that,” Billy agrees, then presses a tender kiss to Steve’s lips. “But, um. Can we be scared in the shower? I’m getting crusty.”

Steve laughs, loud and bright. “Yeah, I can get down with that,” he says, moving to sit up. “As long as I get to pick the movie tonight.”

“Deal,” Billy agrees.

They hustle up the stairs, laughing like idiots as they bump into each other and nearly topple backwards. It’s bliss, Steve can’t help but think, in every sense of the word.

And he’ll be hard fucking pressed to ever let that feeling go.

* * *

  _December 25, 1985_

“Why’s it so fucking bright?”

Steve chuckles, combing a hand through Billy’s hair. “Because it’s almost noon, sleepyhead,” he tells him, glancing at the clock next to the bed.

Billy groans, then sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Jesus,” he mutters. “I slept like the dead.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve says with a laugh. “I think you were out as soon as I turned off the lights last night.”

Stretching like a cat, Billy curls back up into a ball, shifting to rest his head in Steve’s lap. “Merry Christmas,” he says softly, curling the blankets around himself.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, sweetheart,” Steve hums. “I’m going to go make us some breakfast. Meet me down there, yeah?”

Billy just nods in acknowledgment, snuggling deeper into the plushness of Steve’s comforter.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Steve hears Billy shuffle into the kitchen. He’s in the middle of cooking scrambled eggs when he feels Billy wrap his arms around his middle, hooking his chin over his shoulder and planting a sweet kiss to his neck. Steve smiles, twisting around in his arms to kiss him properly, before turning back to the stove.

“It’s almost ready,” Steve tells him, then nods to the mug of coffee on the kitchen island. “Made you a cup. Black, two sugars, right?”

“Perfect,” Billy hums, taking the cup gratefully. He pads over to the kitchen table, angling one of the chairs towards Steve before plopping down.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Steve asks, noting Billy’s pondering gaze.

The other boy shrugs. “Just wondering if I should call Max,” he replies, “tell her Merry Christmas, or whatever.”

Steve turns off the stove, scooping the eggs onto the plates, next to the neat little piles of bacon that he’d prepared first. He hands Billy his plate, then bends over to plant a kiss on the top of his head.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he tells him, taking the seat adjacent to Billy’s. “She should be at Lucas’ by now, right?”

“Yeah, should be,” the other boy says with a nod. “I’ll call her later today.”

They sit in companionable silence as they eat, Billy’s attention caught briefly by a _Car and Driver_ magazine that his father had left strewn on the table. Steve chews thoughtfully, his mind straying to the small box resting in his pocket.

He isn’t nervous to give Billy a gift, per se, but he can’t help but feel a little nervous about what he’d think of his choice. He’d like to think that he knows Billy pretty well by now, given the sheer amount of time they’d spent together in the last few weeks. But it’s important, to Steve at least, that he gets it right.

He’s still lost in thought when he feels something lightly nudging the tips of his fingers. Steve blinks down at the table, where a plain black box is being slid across it slowly.

Billy meets his eyes as he retracts his hand, clearing his throat. “It’s not much, but, uh…” he trails off, scratching the back of his head. “Just open it.”

Steve gently peels off the tape that's holding the box closed. “A coffee mug? How’d you know I was in desperate need of some new kitchenware?” He says with a smile. He’s just leaning over to give Billy a kiss on the cheek when his mouth drops open, and he does a double-take at the mug that’s now resting on the table. “Wait, hold on. Did you make this?”

The mug is of modest size, ceramic with a coating of vibrant indigo paint that steadily fades into a lighter bluish-gray, and a glossy finish. It’s pristine, looking nearly store-bought, enough so that Steve had honestly assumed that it had been. His eyes, however, catch sight of the inscription on the side. His initials are engraved in Billy’s neat handwriting, with a surprisingly detailed outline of a pair of Ray Bans carved above.

Steve looks back up at Billy, who has yet to speak. His eyes find the other boy blushing in his seat, chewing on the inside of his cheek, the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” Billy answers finally, looking a little more than uncomfortable. “Took a class, over the summer. I was going to give it to you sooner, but - well. You know.”

“You took _one_ class? And this is the first thing you made, like, ever?” Steve asks, his eyes wide.

Billy shrugs, trying - and failing - to look casual. “Like I said, it’s not much -” He starts, but Steve is interrupting him before he can finish.

“It’s _perfect_ ,” he breathes, cradling the gift delicately in his hands. “I’m serious. I thought you got this from the mall. I love it, Billy, honestly.”

“‘S nothing,” Billy says, but when he looks back up at Steve, there’s a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you like it.”

Steve stands up suddenly, then plops himself directly into Billy’s lap, planting a sweet kiss to his lips. “Of course I like it, babe. I can’t believe you took a class for me.”

Billy shifts to accommodate him, one arm wrapping around his waist, the other holding onto his hip. “We could take one together,” he suggests easily, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. “It's peaceful, or whatever. All that artsy shit, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Steve agrees, playing with one of Billy’s velvety curls as he gives him an affectionate smile. They don’t speak for several moments, before Steve reaches a hand into his pocket, wriggling out the box he’d stuffed inside. “I got you something too.”

He hands Billy the present, watching in anticipation as he removes the lid. Resting inside the box are two simple, dangly earrings, one a silver lightning bolt, the other a dainty, intricately carved pentagram. Both have the same crushed garnet inlay, which glitters prettily in the sunlight spilling through the kitchen window.

“I know you said you thought the whole ‘wearing your boyfriend’s class ring’ thing was corny,” Steve says, recalling a particular conversation they’d had a week or so prior. Although, Billy hadn’t exactly said it in so many words. “So I figured you’d like these better.”

Billy just stares down at the box for a long moment, long enough that Steve starts to feel uncomfortable. Finally, he asks, “you had these made for me? Out of your class ring?”

“Yeah, there’s a jeweler at the mall. My dad basically has him on call for whenever he pisses off my mom,” Steve answers. His brows furrow in concern as he notes the frown tugging at Billy’s lips. “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t like them, hon. I promise I won’t be offended.”

“No, it’s just…I thought you loved that ring,” Billy explains, his frown growing deeper.

Steve presses a fond kiss to the other boy’s forehead. “Yeah, I did,” he says easily, smiling. “And I love you. So it’s a perfect fit.”

There’s only a momentary silence before Billy unfastens the earring currently dangling from his ear. He takes the pentagram earring carefully from the box, easily securing it in place in his earlobe.

“How’s it look?” he asks, angling his head to give Steve a better view.

He considers the question for a moment, then gives him a roguish smile and says, “it’s kind of making me wish you weren’t wearing anything else, to be honest.” Steve doesn’t give Billy a chance to reply, instead choosing to seal their lips in an easy kiss.

Billy melts into it, one of his arms circling tighter around Steve's waist, the other moving to tangle a hand into his hair. The kiss is just beginning to deepen when Billy pulls away, his cheeks tinged with a rosy flush.

“Thank you, princess,” he murmurs, smoothing his thumb over one of Steve’s cheekbones. “And I, uh…I love you too, you know.”

There’s another beat of silence where Steve just smiles, before Billy adds, “so are you going to get me naked, or what?”

Steve’s laugh is free and bright and unapologetically loud. His heart feels more at home in this very moment than it ever has in his entire life, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough, Steve thinks.

It’s everything.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was worth the wait, for any of you out there who were interested in the idea of this follow-up. any and all feedback is welcome, you all know the drill !!


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